


Vignette

by choupichoups



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Peak Romance, Soft birthday boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 00:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choupichoups/pseuds/choupichoups
Summary: "What do you think Eliott and Lucas are doing right now?"A collection of canon related one shots





	1. Steal Some Covers (Share Some Skin)

****

**Thursday 6:52**

“Hey.”

Eliott pokes at the massive mound of blankets on the right side of the bed, eliciting a low grumble akin to that of a grouchy chihuahua. 

He thought he’d been prepared for this. Eliott had set out _multiple_ blankets for them to share when it got late enough last night that staying over was the most logical thing for Lucas to do. Multiple as in more than one. Eliott vaguely remembers counting over three.

And yet. 

“Hey,” he repeats, poking incessantly, unperturbed. 

“What.” The blankets talk back, curling into a tighter ball as it speaks.

“Let me sleep,” he says, smiling despite of himself when his burrito of a boyfriend responds with confused silence— Eliott doesn’t know how Lucas manages to emit utter confusion even under all those sheets. 

The blanket ball teeters dangerously close to the edge of the bed. “No one’s stopping you.” 

Eliott flails one arm out and locks it around Lucas, dragging him back to the center of the bed. “I can’t sleep without my boyfriend. Have you seen him?” That earns him a sleepy little giggle but Lucas still doesn’t emerge from his cocoon, which prompts Eliott to start peeling layers upon layers of sheets back, hoping to eventually unravel the boy inside. 

“Noooo,” Lucas mumbles from under the pile, squirming to get away. Eliott holds him still— he hasn’t managed to unveil his boyfriend quite yet but he thins it out enough to feel around for which body part is which. 

“Give me a blanket,” he mutters, sounding just as petulant as Lucas.

“You have one.”

“I _don’t,_ you took all of them, _one by one_ , the entire night.”

“I did not.”

Actions speak louder than words, so Eliott forgoes a response to concentrate on unwrapping Lucas from his very sturdily enforced blanket burrito. Gone is the grouchy chihuahua grumbling, replaced instead by what sounds like a bear that stubbed its toe on a tree root. 

Lucas desperately holds onto the last layer of blanket as Eliott laughs gleefully.

“Eliott!” They pull at the blanket back and forth, a fruitless game of tug o’ war which renders the same result every single time. “Please, no, I’m cold,” Lucas whispers pitifully, blanket pulled down just enough so that only his eyes are visible and _of course_ Eliott makes the same idiotic mistake he always does— he looks up and meets Lucas’ large, doleful eyes, all round and watery from sleep, begging for anyone who dares a glance to grant him whatever he wants. 

It’s unfair, really, Eliott knows Lucas is well aware of what he’s doing and that he is, in fact, doing it on purpose. 

But it works. 

Because this is Eliott’s life now. Powerless against annoyingly adorable blanket thieves and such. 

He sighs, not only letting go of the sheets, but also gripping the edges and bringing them over to warmly wrap around Lucas’ exposed back. 

Yeah, whipped as they come.

“Sorry I took them all,” Lucas says eventually, slightly muffled. He shifts around until the blanket is on top of him rather than around him and lifts his arm in a gesture for Eliott to come closer. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“It’s fine,” Eliott sighs, shivering as warmth finally envelops him when Lucas drops the blanket tightly around the both of them. Of course it’s not fine, he _froze_ for the better part of the night, but Eliott isn’t about to tell Lucas that. Knowing him, Lucas would be genuinely upset over it. “There you are.” Eliott slides in closer, hands moving to cup Lucas’ sleep flushed cheeks. “I missed your pretty face.”

Lucas’ hand lands lightly over Eliott’s face, obscuring his sight, but luckily not before he catches a glimpse of Lucas’ lovely smile unfurl. He lets Lucas push at him playfully before licking at the palm placed over his lips.

“Hey!” Lucas yelps, quick to take his hand back, and Eliott is helpless against the laughter that shakes his entire body. He moves in close again but Lucas turns away— or tries to anyway, but Eliott catches his arms and wrestles him back into facing forward. “Go away!”

“No!” And Eliott keeps laughing, rising up on his elbows when Lucas half heartedly fights back. His chuckles gain volume when Lucas, in a bid to hold back his own laughter, lets out the most unflattering snort known to mankind.

God, he’s beautiful. 

Eliott leans down, dropping an obnoxious kiss on the tip of Lucas’ nose with a resounding _mwah_ before moving on to pepper tiny little kisses all over his face. He doesn’t stop until Lucas’ giggles ring clear around the pseudo walls of their minuscule blanket fort. 

Softening his grip around Lucas’ forearms, Eliott lets his hand glide over to his boyfriend’s back as they lie back down on their sides. 

“Can you grab the other blankets from the fl—”

Eliott kisses him quiet, tucking Lucas’ head under his chin as he runs one hand over a bare shoulder, hoping the soothing circles would warm his boyfriend enough. “Let’s sleep a little more.”

“You’re the one who woke me up,” Lucas retorts, but Eliott can feel his eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing softly against Eliott’s neck. 

“Yeah, cause you were hogging all the blankets.”

“So? You run hot anyway.”

“I’m not a fucking reptile, Lucas.” 

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Okay, listen here you little—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm not dead I swear here's some hard proof  
> Will be updating this the next few days as I edit my stuff (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞
> 
> Check out my dumblr [@choupichoups](https://choupichoups.tumblr.com) if you'd like to comb through the memes and find some writing snippets, upcoming fics, etc 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. In Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh!” A dull thunk of metal on counter. The light padding of quick footsteps. Lucas returns inside the bedroom empty handed, a whirlwind of loose shirts and wild hair and bright eyes. “Happy birthday!” he breathes out, jumping into bed with a loud kiss to Eliott’s forehead.
> 
> Or: It's Eliott's birthday and he highkey wants to stay in bed with his boyfriend.

A persistent chill at the tips of his toes wakes him.

He makes a lazy attempt to shove the sheets further down, all the while using as little movement as possible. Newsflash: _it doesn’t work_ , and he’s stuck with a niggling awareness to the cool temperature inside the room, out of place with the scorching heat from outside. 

The first thing he hears is the sound of Lucas’ alarm— knows it’s Lucas’ simply because Eliott would _never_ set up such an irritating chime as his daily wake up call. It rings loud above the humming of the portable air conditioning unit Lucas and his roommates have been recently obsessed with.

The first thing he smells is something homely, something familiar, and he’s hit with a creeping nostalgia, welcoming that same feeling he gets whenever visiting the bakery around the corner that he and his parents used to frequent.

The first thing he sees is Lucas— eyes closed, breathing even. Eliott’s chest warms, forgetting about the cold touch on his body as Lucas snuffles, snuggling closer into Eliott’s space, chasing contact when Eliott jostles them a little too much. 

With one finger, he runs a soft line along the bridge of Lucas’ nose, watching it wrinkle at the disturbance. He doesn’t have to wait long until those pretty eyes flutter open, sleep darkened blues blinking in gradual awareness. 

“Hi.” Eliott’s voice barely makes a sound, but Lucas responds just as sweetly, head tilting into the dips of Eliott’s hand. His flushed cheeks fit perfectly inside Eliott’s hold, as if Lucas truly were made for his touch alone. It’s a phenomenon Eliott continuously marvels at— how he and Lucas are vastly different, two puzzle pieces belonging to a separate whole, yet when put together, somehow, _somehow_ , they manage to fight their mould. And they fit. They fit so well that attempting to pry the other apart is a challenge taken only by an utter idiot. 

“Morning,” Lucas mumbles into his pillow, eyes falling shut when Eliott starts massaging a hand through his hair. Eliott basks in the serenity of the moment. 

Which is a good thing, apparently, because when Lucas next opens his eyes, they’re wide and panicked. He gasps too, the sound of it a tad bit concerning for Eliott’s muddled brain. He means to ask what’s wrong, arms ready to comfort and lips ready to form soothing words.

The last thing he expects is the stunning, albeit cushiony, force of a pillow being shoved right into his face. Eliott lets his body fall back dramatically, blinking rapidly when the pillow is removed and Lucas scrambles to pet all over Eliott’s face, squeaky apologies pouring out his lips. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Lucas fumbles, “uh, go back to sleep.” He grabs the sheets around them and starts tucking the corners around Eliott as if swaddling him like an infant would instantly knock Eliott back to sleep. 

“What.” Now fully awake, Eliott no longer feels all that chilly. It’s starting to feel quite warm, actually, so he squirms around to try and escape his blanket entrapment. “No, I can’t go back to sleep now.”

“Yes, you can,” Lucas insists, moving on to fluffing the pillows up around Eliott’s head. He’s mumbling something under his breath but when Eliott leans up to catch the words better, two firm hands on his chest keep Eliott where he is. “Stay right there.” 

He doesn’t get to respond. Lucas rushes out of the room quick as lightning, tripping over the bedding as he gets out. Eliott laughs at him, freeing one arm from the sheets so he can sit up. There’s a clanging sound in the kitchen but Eliott figures Lucas would call out to him if any assistance is needed. 

“Oh!” A dull thunk of metal on counter. The light padding of quick footsteps. Lucas returns inside the bedroom empty handed, a whirlwind of loose shirts and wild hair and bright eyes. “Happy birthday!” he breathes out, jumping into bed with a loud kiss to Eliott’s forehead. The latter laughs at the ridiculousness of it, fitting warm hands around Lucas’ waist, dragging him down for a proper kiss.

But Lucas is gone again before Eliott could even process the weight shifting off his lap. 

Denied of kisses? On his _very birthday_? How criminal. 

“Lucas!” He calls out once he’s decided that his boyfriend’s been gone long enough. “Come back here.” 

He gets back a muffled, “Hold on!” And when Lucas returns for the second time, he’s holding a small plate of what looks like fruit tart in between two hands. “I’m running a little behind schedule, but we can’t miss the breakfast cake.”

Eliott’s not going to be the one to tell him that that’s not a cake. “So there’re gonna be a lunch cake?” he asks, mostly joking. He chokes on a laugh when Lucas gives him a look that says, _duh, what do you take me for?_ “Baby—”

“I got this from that bakery you like,” Lucas continues on, carefully sitting on one of Eliott’s spread legs so that the tart is held deliciously under his nose. “And there’s some croissants and other stuff in the kitchen for later.” No wonder the apartment smells like the bakery itself. “For now you can blow out your first candle.”

Eliott just smiles at him, indulgent. “How many candles do I get?” 

“Three.”

“Three wishes, huh?”

Lucas beams, nodding. “Whatever you want.” 

Eliott blows the candle out, wishing for time to stand still. He knows it’s irrational. “What’s this schedule thing you’re on about?”

He watches Lucas meticulously remove the candle from the middle of the tart, brushing off any drops of wax left behind. “I was actually gonna wake you up earlier,” Lucas says, cutting into the dessert with a fork. “But I fell asleep after the bakery.” 

Eliott snorts, dutifully opening his mouth to eat the piece Lucas holds up for him. It’s too big a bite, so he can’t respond right away. Lucas probably does it on purpose.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. Looking all cozy in bed.” Lucas reaches up the corner of Eliott’s lips and wipes off a bit of cream, popping his thumb in his own mouth to lick it off right after. It’s an absent gesture, Eliott’s sure Lucas doesn’t mean to look half as alluring doing it as he does. But, well, Eliott’s only human.

He hums distractedly, unable to recall what they’d been talking about. 

“Do you like this?” Lucas asks after swallowing his own mouthful of tart. 

Another hum, and then Eliott presses their lips together, licking into Lucas’ mouth, tasting sugar and fruit and _Lucas_. It’s a divine mix, he thinks. The sweetest thing to ever settle on his tongue. It’s a pity he’s discovered this so early in life— nothing else would ever quench his craving quite like this one from now on. 

“Yeah,” he whispers into Lucas’ lips, unwilling to part just yet. He nibbles on those soft lips, can’t get enough of the pliant give under his teeth. “I like this.” 

Lucas leans back with a quiet giggle. “The _cake_ , Eliott.” 

Eliott only shakes his head, smile so wide his jaw aches with it. Reaching up, he holds Lucas’ chin between thumb and forefinger, gently steering their lips back together. He feels Lucas reach behind himself to settle the plate on the nightstand. 

“The cake is good too, I guess.” 

Lucas’ laughter is music.

Eliott tugs at the back of his knee until Lucas throws his legs over both of Eliott’s, settling properly over his lap as Lucas’ hands card gently through Eliott’s sheet mussed hair. Lucas leans down, kissing Eliott close mouthed before murmuring, “We’ve gotta finish breakfast. There’s a long day ahead of you, mister Demaury.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I use my first wish, though?” 

“Who said _I’m_ the one granting your wishes?”

Eliott’s eyes pop open, offended. “Who else?” 

“I don’t know, the universe? Fate? Deities?” Lucas moves to get off of him but Eliott holds him tight, pouting miserably. “You are an actual spoiled brat.” 

“Says you.”

“What?”

“I said I love you.” 

Lucas eyes him dubiously. “I love you too.” 

“Great! So can I have my wish now?” Eliott grins at Lucas’ answering groan. He’d known it was a winning battle from the start. 

“Jesus Christ, okay, fine, what does your highness want?” 

Eliott’s grin softens into a close lipped smile, hands gliding from Lucas’ sides up to his face. His hands have held Lucas this way a hundred times, yet his touch is no less reverent. 

“Can we stay here for a while? I just want to look at you.” He’s aware of how sappy that sounds, but any and all future ribbing about this moment is worth the blush that colours Lucas’ cheeks right this minute. His smile is small, shy, like he can’t believe Eliott would say something like that. It’s a work in progress, convincing Lucas just how beautiful he is. Eliott would work on it forever if he has to. 

Lucas nods, the curve of his forearms a gentle cradle around Eliott’s neck, foreheads pressed close together. Eliott keeps his eyes wide open even as Lucas’ slide close. One hand stays on Lucas’ cheek, thumb brushing aimlessly around a smooth cheekbone. It takes him back to that morning after their first kiss, when he’d been granted the privilege of seeing Lucas soft with sleep for the very first time. Eliott is yet to figure out how to keep from losing his breath at the sight of it. 

But of course Lucas has to ruin the moment eventually. “Not that I don’t enjoy this but I really do have plans for us.” 

Eliott groans, “Can’t we just stay here forever?” 

There’s an absolutely wonderful smile that breaks out on Lucas’ face and Eliott is, at once, found weak against it. Goddamn it. 

“No, silly. I have a list and everything.” 

“You made a list?” 

Lucas nods, flopping over Eliott to search underneath his pillow near the headboard. He brandishes a crumpled sheet of paper with a triumphant sound that has Eliott feeling gooey with adoration. “Here, look!” 

“Wow, that’s a long list.” 

“The plan is to romance the hell out of you.” 

“Right. Lucas Lallemant. King of romance.” 

“I don’t appreciate your tone but anyway.” Lucas tries to get off again and Eliott is getting real tired of it so he tumbles them back into bed, using his weight to keep Lucas in place even as the latter squirms and laughs out weak protests. “Eliott! Come on, there’s _romancing_ to be done!” 

“No offence, baby, but the only romance you own is your hoodie.” Eliott kisses Lucas’ cheek as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly, shocked at being called out so rudely. 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Let me see that list again.”

“No, you’ve lost that privilege.” Lucas turns on his side, hiding the piece of paper in his arms. 

“Please, Lucas,” Eliott laughs, “I’m joking.” He tries to turn his boyfriend over but Lucas resists, holding tight onto the list even when Eliott’s fingers crawl ticklishly over his sides. 

“Don’t!”

“Show me the list!”

“No!”

“It’s literally my birthday and you’re denying me things.”

“Birthdays don’t mean a free pass!’

They tussle around in bed, cackling up at the ceiling, giggling into each other’s space. The room is sweet with their leftover breakfast, warm with their mingling breaths, soft with careful touches, and as they settle down on their sides, Lucas a firm, reassuring shape against Eliott’s chest, Eliott thinks about a version of himself from five years ago. Three years ago. One year ago. 

The one who wishes for the kind of love in the story books. The one who hopes for the happy ending in the movies. The one who craves to feel the connection they talk about in love songs.

“Eiffel tower? Lucas, _come on_ , it’s sweltering outside.” 

“Romance, Eliott. Romance.” 

“I can think of more romantic things to do without leaving this bed.” Eliott fits his lips over the gentle curve of Lucas’ neck, the tip of his nose nuzzling against smooth skin. 

Lucas’ shoulder lifts slightly at the ticklish sensation. “I bet you can but I’m not asking for your opinion, am I?” 

“Okay, I’m hurt.” 

“I’m sorry, happy birthday.”

“You can’t just wish me a happy birthday every time you say something mean, Lucas. That’s not how it works.” 

_You’ll have that_ , he wants to tell his younger self. _The one you dream of in the loneliest nights._

He feels Lucas shake with silent laughter. Watches as the beautiful creature of his dreams lets the list fall on the sheets, turns around in Eliott’s arms, and catches his lips in a kiss searing enough to rival the atrocious heat outside. “Does that work?” 

Because this.

“If you do it again, it might.” 

This story is his reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, while writing this for Eliott's birthday: oh god I'm gonna have to out-cheese this for Lucas' birthday huh


	3. First Meetings 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, he’s made Lucas’ mother cry. He’s officially the worst fucking boyfriend across all the universes. Every other version of himself would be so disappointed. 
> 
> Or: Eliott meets Mama Lallemant for the first time.

**Sunday 9:04**

“Move it a little more to the left— no, not that mu— yes, perfect, thank you!”

Eliott huffs, wobbling backwards as he takes a few careful steps away from the keyboard piano. He’s a little lightheaded from dragging it around the apartment and _boy_ , is he glad that she has one of these instead of a grand piano. 

“Okay?” Lucas materializes beside him, having abandoned his post by the kitchen where he’s been tasked with arranging the small appliances on the counter. A bottle of water is thrust in front of his face before Eliott could say anything and he huffs a small laugh at the sight of Lucas’ raised eyebrows. “What? You look like you’re gonna keel over. Go take a seat.” 

Eliott shakes his head, taking a giant gulp of water before muttering a determined, “No, I’m fine. We have to finish everything now so she can relax for the rest of the day.” 

And there it is. Lucas’ huge adorable smile that Eliott can’t get enough of. He would most certainly find himself committing the most heinous of crimes in exchange for that look. It’s Eliott’s worst kept secret— being head over heels for Lucas, that is. He’s glad nobody’s used this blatant weakness against him as of yet. 

Lucas tilts his head up, blue eyes glittering and lips parting in a silent request. And Eliott would love to give in, almost does so actually. Every fibre of his being screams for him to lean down for a kiss. Just a little. Mama Lallemant had stepped out to grab something downstairs, they’re alone in the living room, absolutely _nothing_ is stopping them from—

A faint thud sounds from the other side of the half closed door and Eliott straightens up, moving away from Lucas and his tempting little face. Can’t have his boyfriend’s mother catching them in the act now. He’s pretty sure it’s a big no no in first meetings 101 to have the mother seeing you on your way to defiling her beloved son. 

“Need help with that?” He offers instead, reaching out a hand to steady the box tilting precariously in her hands. 

“It’s okay, I‘ve got this.” She walks in slowly, careful not to lose her balance. “But if you don’t mind, I think there’s still one more box left on the stairs.”

“I’ll grab it!” he says a little too enthusiastically. He’s got to show her that he’s the perfect match for her perfect son, alright. First impressions last a lifetime. 

Lucas follows halfway down the stairs, watching with a slight smirk when Eliott struggles with the giant box. Seriously, it looks like the cardboard would burst at the wrong touch. 

“Want some help?” 

Eliott considers it, but it’d likely be more difficult navigating back up the stairs with two people so he shakes his head, feeling sweat beading on his temples as he concentrates on the ascent. One step, two steps, three steps…

He almost makes it. He does. But he’s so intent on _not_ messing up that his brain somehow gets confused and his legs miscalculate, left foot catching onto the last step and one of his hands flies out to catch the railing. It’s all he can do not to spill out onto the dirty carpet flooring, but it means that the box in his arms leans sideways and he’s too late to stop some of its contents from falling.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion. He watches two small trophies tumble out, dropping with a dull clunk without much ceremony. 

But then a frankly creepy looking doll follows their descent and it slips down the foot he kicks out to try and stop any further damage, sliding down the stairs dramatically, like a little human baby rolling and rolling and rolling. It’s a bit of a morbid sight when the head of the doll dislodges from its body on the lowest step, the decapitated face stopping right at the point of Lucas’ shoe. 

Eliott places the box on the ground beside him, realizing with increasing horror that Mama Lallemant had run out to join them at some point, bearing witness to the murder Eliott had committed to her, uh, collectible?

The three of them bathe in a thrilling second of suspended silence before Lucas _laughs_. It’s one of those giant, echoing ones that are probably inappropriate to unleash in an apartment hallway that carries sound like it’s an olympic sport. But nobody would dare to stop it for the sheer warmth and joy the mere sound of it brings. 

Eliott gapes, torn between giggling along with Lucas and tearing his hair out at his own stupidity. He watches his boyfriend breathlessly bend over, hands clutching uselessly at the walls. Lucas opens his eyes, wiping at the tears dripping down his lashes only for more laughter to shake his entire body when he catches sight of the headless doll again.

There’s a quiet sniffle from behind him and Eliott’s head whips around so fast he briefly worries about facing the same misfortune the doll had experienced right before him. 

Mama Lallemant’s eyes are hazy with unshed tears.

Oh _god_ , he’s made Lucas’ mother _cry_. He’s officially the worst fucking boyfriend across all the universes. Every other version of himself would be so disappointed. 

“I— I’m so sorry, I can replace it,” he fumbles apologetically, hands wringing at the hem of his shirt. “Just let me know where I can—”

She stops his rambling with a single shake of the head and Eliott’s genuinely surprised to see the large grin that transforms her entire face. Struck by the beauty of it, there’s no doubt in his mind where Lucas gets charm from. 

“It’s fine, darling, I needed an excuse to get rid of that doll anyway. It was a gift.” She winks playfully, one hand coming up to brush away a lone tear that escapes. “It’s just,” she sighs, “it’s been a while since I saw him laugh like that.” With wavering eyes, she regards him with a look so gentle he doesn’t know how to deal with it. “Thank you.” 

Oh.

Well _now_ Eliott’s the one who’s about to fucking cry. 

It’s her turn to laugh as Eliott feels his bottom lip wobble. She moves to wrap him up in a warm hug and Eliott instinctively folds himself to better fit in her arms. 

A hand slips inside one of his own and Eliott pulls away to glance down at Lucas, who’s still got traces of laughter in his eyes despite the curious concern behind them. He looks so precious, Eliott’s about to burst, so he leans forward and presses a kiss to his forehead. Right in front of his mother. Whatever. Eliott’s helped her get rid of that doll so he deserves this sweet reward. 

“While you boys bring the rest of that stuff inside, I’ll go order some food for us.” She smiles, glancing at the two of them before stepping back inside the apartment. “And leave that doll where it is!” 

Eliott chuckles, swinging his and Lucas’ connected hands between them. 

“Everything fine?” Lucas asks, running a finger down the side of Eliott’s face. He turns his head slightly to place a kiss over it when it reaches his lips. 

“Yeah.” And fuck it. Eliott puts a hand on the nape of Lucas’ neck and drags him in for a lingering kiss. “Everything’s fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love that for them 
> 
> Thanks for reading! You guys probably already know what's coming tomorrow


End file.
